


Our Backs on Our Knees

by unconditional_w



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Bellas Through the Ages, Canon Compliant, F/F, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unconditional_w/pseuds/unconditional_w
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows that it may be naïve of her to say, though she’d never deny she’s dealt with her own share of heartbreak and disappointments, but living with such pessimism and paranoia never fluttered as wonderfully in her as knowing that she lived today at her absolute best; and so Chloe Beale likes to think that we all live our lives trying to hurt as few people as possible.</p><p>or<br/>Five times Beca Mitchell almost quits the Barden Bellas and the one time she convinces Chloe not to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 _Lucy and I came from Tallahassee_  
With our bones on our backs  
Our backs on our knees  


_\- To Travels & Trunks by Hey Marseilles_

 

 

One year.  
Then a free flight to LA. This was the agreement Beca and her father had agreed to.  
So when she’s finally hoisting an ICCA above her head as Aubrey’s cheering into her ear, Chloe laughing in the other, and the crowd is hollering louder than the lights in her eyes, a part of her thinks: “ _Okay. Done.”_

_\--_

They head out to their favourite bar off-campus in celebration, small vials of vodka and gin tucked into bras, and cell phones set to vibrate in slightly naughtier bits. Stacie ensures them all it makes for a better night, and everyone’s a little buzzed anyway, so most of them wonder ‘Why not?’ They line up for a total of the amount of time it takes to get to the back of the line, before the bouncer is greeting Aubrey with a sly look in his eye. “You’re the reserved party?” he asks pointedly.

Aubrey shakes her head with such confidence you’d never question it, though the people in line of course do. “Seriously dude?” a man in a leather jacket with his arm slung around his girlfriend asks the bouncer, “My girl’s hotter than all these bitches.” Beca feels Chloe pause in her steps and grimaces at the man’s choice of words, before grabbing loosely at Lily, gripping her fake ID tightly, and the Bellas move inside.

The flickering bar is thumping and after everyone’s shed their coats, they’re dancing wildly against each other and Beca’s eyes are fluttering as the music pumps loudly in her chest and ears and Fat Amy’s grinding up against her back and Chloe’s got her hands on her waist and she’s laughing so warmly into her ear it’s like Beca could just fall asleep against her and Chloe’s murmuring, “I’m so glad you came back to us,” and Beca can hear her smile in her words and she can only grin widely as the redhead pecks her softly on the cheek before hooting loudly with Stacie’s ecstatic cheer, “I LOVE THIS SONG’ and the Bellas sing aloud to a remix of Katy Perry’s Roar and Chloe’s never looked so carefree and Beca thinks, “ _Okay. Done.”_

\--

One afternoon in late May, Aubrey’s at her door with a brand new black and white pitch pipe she offers almost shyly to Beca with pursed lips and a smile and Beca actually feels pretty accomplished and as her fingers grip around the cool metal case she thinks, “ _Okay. Done.”_

\--

It’s just a few days from the last day of school, and while Kimmy-Jin has been studying haphazardly about their dorm or in the library, Beca’s been concentrating mostly on her mashup resume, scoping flight deals for LA, and appreciating the general tense silence on campus that’s developed with this time of the year. She’s working on a Young Jeezy/Taylor Swift mashup when a pencil is flicked onto her keyboard. Pausing momentarily, Beca snaps her headphones off and turns to Kimmy-Jin. “What’s up?” she sighs, setting aside the frustration for another day that her roommate just can’t _tap her shoulder_ like a normal person.

“There’s someone at the door,” Kimmy-Jin responds with those frustrated eyes, turning back to her work.

Beca detangles herself from the headphones entirely, skipping across the room with a dramatized huff. She isn’t exactly expecting anyone, aside from maybe sometimes her father, though he rather make obnoxious comments from behind the door, so there’s no real questioning when it’s _him._ Jesse was home for the summer and had just texted her a photo of him and his family by the beach, many of the Bellas have also already gone home, and it was exam season. So what she doesn’t quite expect, especially because they just met up yesterday for a run, is an uninvited, unannounced Chloe Beale, smiling nervously when the door swings open.

“Hi,” she says almost breathlessly.

“Uh, hey,” Beca’s eyebrows crease, “You out of breath?”

Chloe shakes her head quickly, convincing no one. “Do you-“ she glances nervously into Beca’s room, which the brunette follows with more confusion, “Do you have time to talk?”

“Is this like a You-Need-Me-To-Give-You-A-Shovel-And-Duffel-Bag Thing or a Girl-Chat-Type thing?”

Chloe laughs and bites her lip. “Neither, just – I wanted to ask you something.”

There’s some excitement in her eyes that seems to infect Beca, which only makes her more suspicious. It sounds like it may be private, but there’s such a casual air about her that it’s probably about which of these stupid adorable kittens should she adopt. “Is-I mean, is out here okay?” Beca motions to the emptying hallway.

Chloe looks about, as if she’d never thought of it before. “Oh-yeah.”

Beca closes the door, careful to exchange a fire-flash glance with Kimmy-Jin, and they move down the corridor to a windowsill. Baker has always been a pretty active dorm, but it’s nearing dinnertime and everyone walking past seems to be preoccupied with their phones. Beca leans against the window, until she realizes that makes the sunlight shine into Chloe’s eyes, so she scoots beside it and Chloe stills beside her. Outside, the sun is setting and casting a beautiful red glow onto her. “What’s his name? Where is he from?”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Not girl chat.”

“Whatever you say, red. So what’s up? You seem…different.”

Chloe twitches nervously, biting one side of her lower lip, then the other. Fumbling hands and cracking her knuckles slowly, Beca’s never seen her so uncertain but seemingly about ready to burst. “So you know about the mandatory Bellas meeting next week,” she says agonizingly slowly, as if she’s ready for Beca to jump in. When she’s only met with a nod, she bites her whole lower lip before continuing. “Well actually it’s kind of mandatory because we’re a little bit behind on schedule this year.”

Beca’s eyes knit together. “Okay...” she says slowly.

Chloe takes a step forward to her. “We’re supposed to already have the new leaders of next year to submit to school but since we went through – you know - what we went through this year, “ Beca rolls her eyes with a smile. “We didn’t actually get around to talking about the long run-Anyway! Long story short. I think that … you should do it. I’m going to nominate you on Monday, and I already know through secret means that I’ll get a second nomination from one Stacie Conrad.” Chloe’s smile is megawatt, and only slightly falters at Beca’s silence. “Of course,” she bulldozes through, “It doesn’t – matter. If you don’t _accept_ the nomination. Which I suspected you might not without some-“ she winks, “Convincing.”

Beca’s only allowing small awkward puffs of air out at a time. She inhales quickly and stares out the window. _Well, fuck._ She feels Chloe’s hand grab at her arm.

“Oh come on, Beca, we both know you’re the best choice. Just say yes.”

It’s too much. A little too much information, a little too much _belief,_ and a lot too much touching. She slowly arches her arm out of Chloe’s reach, trying to look away from the redhead’s smile that suddenly slides right off. “Yeah,” she says softly, watching the bros outside play Frisbee, “Listen, Chloe. I probably should have told you this before…”

Chloe’s breath catches. “You’re leaving the Bellas?”

“No, it’s not-I’m-urgh,” Beca shuts her eyes and rubs them with a hand frustratingly. Fuck, why did she have to hurt peoples’ _feelings_ just by pursuing her own dreams? She takes a breath and raises her eyesight to Chloe’s. “I’ve kind of always had the plan to leave Barden after my first year,” she breathes out quickly. “For LA.”

There’s a silence, as Chloe’s eyes grow wide, then softer. She licks her lips for the first time, purses them together. “Um. Oh,” she settles with. They shift together on their feet as a group of girls walk by quizzing each other on what sounds to be a chemistry test. Beca fights some stupid fucking urge to like – cry. Chloe actually wipes at her eye, which causes Beca to inhale quickly. Nobody needs to fucking _cry_ over this, least of all Chloe.

“Look, it’s always been the plan. It’s nothing personal, Chloe. Not to Barden, not to the Bellas, not to-” she stops.

Chloe’s just nodding, but it’s not clear if anything is quite landing. “I um-”she wipes at her lips this time, “I kind of thought you were…” she trails off, with a distant look in her eye, “I mean, I thought that we had-” she stops herself. She’s not sure where that sentence is going, but it pulls at her chest too tightly.

This has to stop. This whole awkward back and forth and stopping sentences thing. This was _Chloe_ , for god’s sake, why did this have to be something painful. Why did we have to _talk_ about it? Beca reaches for that. “I mean, you get it, don’t you, Chlo? You’re leaving, too.”

At this, Chloe breaks into a sudden smile. A wide grin followed by an almost maniacal laugh, and she’s wiping at her eyes that are actually tearing up. And something’s squishing inside of her and dying over and over, and over. “No, Beca,” she laughs, and it sounds like nothing is funny, “No, the thing is I’m – um-” She pauses and laughs harder, this time tears actually streaming down her face. Fuck fuck fuck. Beca reaches forward to grab at her but Chloe’s moved out of her grasp, pushed off the wall and out of the sunlight. “No,” she says, waving a hand to motion she’s fine, “No, the thing is I’m actually _not_ graduating.” She laughs again before grimacing and bites her lower lip. “I failed Russian lit, so I think I might be staying at Barden for another year.”

The wheels spin. Because Chloe is _awesome_ at Russian lit. No: Chloe could fucking _teach_ Russian lit. The wheels spin. They spin and spin. And Beca finally clicks on. “Chloe,” she says softly, reaching forward this time instead, she grazes the redhead’s arm. When she doesn’t shift away, Beca traces her forearm down to her hand and plays with her fingers lightly. “Were you asking me to co-captain with you?”

Chloe sniffs, hating that she’s crying. Fuck, it’s not that big of a deal. Amy would be fine. Amy would be fine. Amy would be fine. “It’s fine,” she shakes her head. “It’s just that the first round of pre-auditions is coming up next week and I’ve got to be home for my nephew’s birthday so I won’t be able to attend and I – we need a captain there.”

Beca’s mind is swirling. Swirling and swirling and goddamit why doesn’t Barden have palm trees and why won’t Luke give her a better chance and why won’t the radio stations return her calls even after the ICCAs and she _really_ doesn’t want to tell her dad she wants to stay another year and see that stupid smug expression on his face and Jesse would finally be able to literally marathon _all_ John Hughes movies and _why_ does Chloe look so sad, and god, this is why you don’t make _friends._ “Chloe-”

“It’s fine, Beca,” she says again, this time gazing back out the windows. She sighs and wipes at her eyes with finality.

“Okay, I know what that means, it means nothing is fine, but look, you’ve got to see this from my point of view, too, right?” Chloe’s sinking into herself and it’s not what Beca intended, but dammit she has to get this point across. “It’s not personal, it’s just the plan.”

Chloe swallows hard. “The plan?”

“Yes, the plan! Don’t you have a-” she stops herself yet again. Fuck that has to stop. She takes a breath. “Chloe, it’s not like I haven’t had a blast this year, okay, I have. But me staying another year, I mean, you’ve got to see, that’s – that’s fucking crazy.”

Chloe shifts on her feet, and shifts her head upwards. “Why is it ‘crazy’?”

Beca taps her head with a blink. “Am I-” She starts, and then lowers her voice, realizing she’s yelling, now. “Am I on fucking glue or something?”

Chloe’s eyes grow harder.

“We won! Chloe. You _won._ We won the ICCAs. We’re _done._ Aren’t you _done?”_ Beca’s aware that her hands at flying every which way at her head and for some reason pointing into the hallway as it to present the ICCA award. She lowers them calmly. Chloe’s staring at her with some sort of unreadable expression, her lips parted. Beca’s heartbeat slows. The sun has set.

“No,” Chloe murmurs softly, “I’m not done.”

Chloe’s brows knit together slowly as her gaze travels across Beca’s face, and the brunette’s suddenly aware of a warmth that flushes across her neck. Chloe’s eyesight flows carefully from Beca’s eyes to her lips, and the only reason Beca knows this is because she’s looking right into Chloe’s eyes, but seeing her look at her lips makes Beca look at Chloe’s lips, which are now closer because apparently the redhead has shifted closer and they’re breathing loudly – so loudly, she can hear it in her ears.

“Are _you_ done?” Chloe breathes out, and Beca can actually _feel_ her hot breath on her own lips.

This is fucking crazy.

This is just fucking crazy.

Where did the fucking sun go, and why is it _hotter_ if it’s _down_?

Chloe’s looking at her like she knows something even Beca won’t admit out loud, and it’s only growing more confusing and _intimate_ as their silence extends. They’ve always had these moments, more so in the past few months once Beca returned to the Bellas. They’d spot one another from across a party and wink. They’d share a smile during a hard day of rehearsal. They’d spend an extra moment holding the others’ gaze before wishing them goodnight. What it meant they’d never spoken about, but their relationship _was_ , without talking about it, without Beca having to think too much on it, _intimate._ And that was fine. She supposed. What _wasn’t_ fine was when anyone wanted to speak about this closeness, which luckily Chloe never did, or when Beca had to think about losing it. Which luckily she never did. Until this moment as Chloe’s so close, her eyes so wanting, her hands still at her sides.

Beca clears her throat slowly, the sound breaking something in the air, and Chloe’s snapped away, gazing away, biting that lip again. She breathes out loud and runs her hand through her bright red trestles and damn it, Beca never gave much thought about how much she might miss _Chloe._ Something is so tight in her chest and it feels like a sob but it feels like laughter, too.

“Give it some thought, Beca,” Chloe says, breaking her from her thoughts. “I’ll see you on Monday?” she asks, those sad eyes back. Beca swallows down her guilt and nods. Chloe smiles just a small one, and hey, Beca will take her small victories anywhere. There’s a soft squeeze of her shoulder and Chloe’s gone.

She listens to her skip down the stairs until Chloe’s probably out of the building, and Beca rests herself back onto the wall.

In all honesty, what exactly _was_ her exit strategy out of the Bellas?

 

\---

 

“I’m sorry,” Chloe’s hand is out at the camera, the widest smile plastered on her face, and she can’t help but giggle, “Did you just say ’22’?”

“You know I fucking did,” Beca grumbles, biting at her red licorice rope, kicking her feet up onto the table.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe bursts out again, full-on hands on table, guffaws and snorts laughing, “I’m going to need a moment to fully appreciate this.”

Beca re-adjusts her laptop’s height for the camera to better view her and swings her arms back. “That’s what the kids are listening to these days, I figured it was a safe choice to audition with.”

Chloe’s biting her lip again and smirking her laughs away this time. “Okay, Mitchell, whatever you say, you secret Swiftie.”

Beca rolls her eyes and grabs another licorice rope. “Shut up. Don’t you want to know how they were?”

Chloe nods and hums, and suddenly all the humour is gone from the moment, and Beca can see her glancing down at her desk, a pad of paper and pen in hand. “Let’s start with the immediate callbacks,” she says, writing it down.

And Beca smirks.

\---


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a while, I'm still not sure if I'm happy with it. But maybe not all adventures are roses and daisies.

 

  
_All I want is love eternally_  
  
\- To Travels  & Trunks by Hey Marseilles

 

 

 

 

In an ideal world, everybody would be happy with what they were given.

In the real world, Beca Mitchell is not in LA, and neither is Fat Amy.

 

\---

 

 

The Fat Amy issue begins almost immediately at the beginning of the semester. But first, it starts with the aftershocks of pre-auditions.

When Chloe returns to Barden the next week after her nephew’s birthday, she and Beca have narrowed the list of auditionees with potential to a single girl; Jillian Pepperman, soprano. But it’s not long before the BU Harmonics new leader Tracy Thomas pulls them aside one Saturday afternoon, nervously buying them both coffees.

“Thanks for meeting me, girls,” Tracy smiles, perfectly straight teeth biting perfectly manicured nails.

“Don’t mention it,” Chloe beams, sipping at her ice macchiato.

Beca gulps her black coffee. “What’s up?”

Tracy nods, as if tapped into a boxing ring. “So. Congrats on winning the ICCAs last year. It was totes amazing,” she stops to exchange some sort of secret hair flip with Chloe, “And we have been completely inspired and rejuvenated.”

“Kay,” Beca deadpans, but smiles friendly when Chloe presses lightly on her foot with her own.

Tracy clasps her hands together excitedly. “So we’re really branching out with our song selection. You know, to give you girls a run for your money.”

“Aca-awesome, Trace!” Chloe high-fives her and exchanges a glance with Beca. _Don’t worry, we’ll be fine._

Tracy grins this time, fully confident and pushing through. “So we’re really looking into getting a strong singer this season, you know, like who is our generation’s Ellie Goulding?”

A pause, and Beca’s lost. Luckily Chloe manages a forced “un-hunh” with enough encouragement that Tracy finally gets to the point.

“Sooooo,” she drawls, “We’re really looking into Jillian Pepperman.”

Jillian seems to be a better fit with the BU Harmonics anyway, and with the official round of auditions coming around, Beca and Chloe agree on the spot, and in a motion of good faith and the new Bellas leaf they’re turning over, to hand Pepperman over.

When August comes around, though, it turns out not only are the new auditionees not a particularly solid group, but the Bellas work just fine without replacing Aubrey’s position, and Beca and Chloe have decided by mid-September that it may be a better idea to simply move forward without taking on anyone new this year.

“Uh, are we sure?” Fat Amy brings up at the meeting in Shake Shack. “Not to step on anyone’s toes here, but I thought NatureGirl had a pretty awesome belt.”

“I remember her,” Stacie agrees, “She was pretty, too.”

“Alright,” Beca says slowly, eyeing Stacie, “Well, we’ve already agreed we’re not that kind of group anymore.” She feels Chloe’s eyes on her. “ _I mean_ we’re not strictly looking for hotties. But also, yes, Fat Amy, I think we’re clear on this. Jenny had a strong belt but she couldn’t read music, doesn’t have any dance training, and honestly, it seemed like she was … kind of high.” She pauses, and looks around the room, as the Bellas chow down on their burgers. “I mean, I’m not alone on that, right? Some of you thought she was high, too?”

Cynthia Rose murmurs in agreement, and Jessica makes an ‘eh’ sound.

Beca feels a vibration in her pocket. She checks it quickly.

 **Luke WORK** (8:40PM) **: becky RU free to take midnight shift tonight**  
  
Chloe nudges her.

“Yeah, but still,” Fat Amy pushes, “I mean, not everybody can be a dance master like yours truly, and honestly, I taught myself how to read music. Did I mention that?”

Beca swallows a grunt. Why did every hour have to be Fat Amy Hour?

“You mentioned it, yes,” Cynthia Rose says weakly.

“Yeah,” Fat Amy looks back at Beca, “It’s all self-taught.”

Another vibration in Beca’s pocket. Chloe clears her throat.

Stacie slurps at her milkshake then turns it around. “Should I not have done that?” she searches for the calories on the cup.

“It’s on the menu,” Chloe says.

“Here, take mine,” Cynthia Rose offers her own menu.

“I don’t mean to make this a big deal,” Fat Amy’s saying again, like it’s _absolutely_ what she wants to make it.

Another vibration from Beca’s phone.

 “Let’s drop this, girls,” Chloe tries.

“But like,” Fat Amy goes on, “I thought the rest of us were in agreement.”

“Wait, now I’m confused, which one was NatureGirl?” Ashley asks.

 “The one with the dreads,” Jessica replies.

Wait, was that the other way around? She can’t keep track of the strings of conversation and Chloe’s still nudging her nonstop and _fuck, stop it, it’s starting to hurt._

“Mn-Uh,” Stacie shakes her head, “Helena was the one with the dreads, NatureGirl was the one in the skimpy green top with the hemp shoes.”

“Beca?” Chloe asks.

“Aw, nugh,” Fat Amy whines, “Naw, dude, NatureGirl _is_ the one with the dreads.”

“What are dreads?”

Beca’s head is spinning in frustration and confusion. God this place is so fucking loud, and why were they discussing this further? She feels yet another vibration in her pocket and checks it quickly.

8:44PM **3 unread messages from LukeWORK**

 **StupidFace** (8:45PM) **: BeCAW! How’s the meeting going? Coming home soon?**

She feels Chloe’s hair on her nose before she sees it.

Stacie’s drinking Cynthia Rose’s milkshake now, too. “Who keeps texting you?”

“Jesse,” Chloe says, before Beca can say ‘Doesn’t matter’.

Beca sends a glare at Chloe. She’s not completely sure why it’s unnerving. It really shouldn’t be. Nothing is a secret, with the Bellas, and obviously not with her and Chloe, but Jesse is Private Time. It’s her own fault for checking her phone to begin with. She puts it away.

“Listen,” she says, with her most professional voice, “We can table this possible re-audition to next week’s meeting if we’d like-” she pauses to control her frustration as Amy raises her hands as if to say she’s innocent of that suggestion, “But for now, I think we’re solid as we are.”

Chloe nods in agreement and scans the group for reaction. She takes a breath before connecting eyes with the blonde. “Amy?” she asks softly.

Fat Amy’s hands are back up again. “Hey, it’s all good,” she says, though it doesn’t sound as convincing.

“Good,” Beca says quickly before Chloe can get another word in. “Alright, nerds, um, class dismissed.”

A kerfuffle of movement as some of the Bellas get up and put their jackets on and Beca’s stretching her neck with intent, packing the audition sheets and resumes of the auditionees into Chloe’s envelope.

Chloe approaches her cautiously. “Everything okay with Jesse?” she asks softly.

“Yeah,” Beca responds with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

Chloe shrugs. “You seem a little on edge.”

They seal the envelope and Beca hands it to Chloe with a sigh. Chloe’s hands clasp hers across the paper, her eyes furrowed with concern. Beca tries for a smile. “I’m fine,” she huffs as calmly as she can. She can feel Chloe’s fingers on her own, soft and gentle but confidently holding her.

“Hey capitanos?” Cynthia Rose is calling, and they disentangle their fingers. “What time is choreo tomorrow?”

Chloe clears her throat. “8AM.” The groan is immediate, even from the Bellas nearing the exit. “Hey, hey, hey!” she yells, snapping her fingers and silencing it immediately. “It’s not 7AM, okay? Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten Aubrey’s weekends. Come hydrated and ready to stay that way, girls.” Beca smirks at her. “What?” Chloe mouths with an innocent face. Beca laughs a small one and shakes it away.

“See you tomorrow ladies,” Stacie calls, waving towards them as Cynthia Rose holds the door open for her.

Jessica blows them a kiss.

Ashley?

Fuck. Which one was the blonde one?

“Hey,” Chloe nudges her backside. “You want to grab a milkshake and touch base?”

Another vibration in her pocket. This time Beca answers.

 **BMitch** (8:52PM) **: Hey Luke, no prob.**

 **BMitch** (8:53PM) **: Hey stupidface. Just finished Bs meeting. Heading to work 4 midnight shift tho. Don’t eat too much popcorn.**

“Beca?”

Beca stuffs her cell back into her bag. “Sorry, Chloe, it’s just a busy night. I’m going to head over to take the midnight shift, actually.”

Chloe’s eyes drop with an air of disappointment. “Oh,” she says, then suddenly, as if she herself had just realized, “We have rehearsal in the morning.”

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine; I’ll get a Red Bull in.”

Beca clears the table of all the Bellas junk and leftovers, (wolves, the pack of them. Was nobody raised in a civilized society?) and grabs some hand moisturizer.

Chloe grips at her bag nervously. “Okay,” she says softly. She wants to say more. She wants to say _Don’t._ She wants to say _You’re running yourself ragged and everyone can tell._ She wants to say _Let me come with you._ In fact.

“I’m sorry, Chlo.”

“Let me come with you.”

“What?”

“I mean, let’s hang out until I pass out,” Chloe smiles.

“I can’t bring friends into the booth.”

“So I’ll stay on the couch outside.”

A sudden image of Chloe bouncing about or trying to distract her with something fun or silly or – spare her – more Bellas talk, shakes her she can hardly keep a shudder from escaping. You know, there’s nothing particularly wrong with the way Chloe leads the Bellas. In fact it’s familiar in that it’s a vice-grip on the team with an absurd smile that grows sickly sweet by the time your heartbeat is high and the sweat is literally dropping from your fingers and it’s only hour 3 of 7. There was nothing wrong with the iron fist Aubrey ran the Bellas with, when it was paired nicely with Chloe’s sensitive touch and gentle reminders. Now with the blonde gone and Beca finding it surprisingly difficult to manage a love life, radio job, _and_ the Bellas, Chloe’s had to take on both roles. And it’s running her pretty ragged, too.

Chloe tries again. “Come on, we can take turns taking naps.”

“Why don’t I see you at rehearsal tomorrow?” Beca asks, trying to sound as helpful as possible, “Get some rest. One of us needs to come in bright and shiny.” There’s a moment as Chloe purses her lips and looks away. She mumbles something under her breath that Beca squints at. _That’_ s not like Chloe. That was definitely an Aubrey move. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Chloe responds, and picks up her bags. She pecks Beca on the cheek quickly. “Send me some new mashes for next week’s rehearsals. Have a good night.” And again, she’s out the door with this newfound ferocity that does nothing to quell the irritation building in Beca. She rubs at her cheek grumpily.

  
\---

  
**StupidFace** (1:43AM) **: I like this song! What’s it called again?**

 **BMitch (** 1:43AM) **: What are you doing up?**

 **StupidFace** (1:44AM) **: Can’t sleep without your fine body.**

 **BMitch (** 1:45AM) **: Go to sleep.**

 **StupidFace** (1:45AM) **: What’s it called!!! Quickly, before it ends!!**

 **BMitch** (1:46AM) **: Fucking google it, Jesse.**

 **StupidFace** (1:47AM) **: Are you okay?  
** **StupidFace** (1:55AM) **: Babe?**

 **BMitch** (1:56AM) **: Don’t call me that.**

1:58AM **Missed call from StupidFace  
** **StupidFace** (2:05AM) **: Hey Beca, can you pick up?  
** **StupidFace** (2:07AM) **: Beca  
** **StupidFace** (2:07AM) **: Beca.  
** **StupidFace** (2:08AM) **: Chipmunk?**

 **ChloeB** (2:16AM) **: Well this is a dark turn.**

 **BMitch** (2:17AM) **: Chloe what are you doing up**

 **ChloeB** (2:18AM) **: I couldn’t sleep! Are you okay? You’ve slid into a Kings of Leon set.**

 **BMitch** (2:19AM) **: I’m fine, go to sleep.**

2:19AM **Missed call from StupidFace**

 **ChloeB** (2:20AM) **: Play me a goodnight song!!**

2:21AM **Missed call from StupidFace**

Beca slams her phone down onto the desk after turning it onto its side. She rubs at her eyes frustratingly. Shit, it’s getting harder to do this. She pushes aside the thoughts of what Chloe’s about to put them through in the morning. She grips the microphone close.

“Coming up next for you crazy nerds who won’t leave me alone at 2 in the morning, we’ve got a new mashup from Maroon 5, here’s _Sugar_ and _Makes Me Wonder.”_ She slides the song on and turns it up in the booth, closing her eyes and concentrating on it. Really concentrating.

It’s a new mix so she’s still not quite sure about it, but _Sugar_ ’s new, and was just released, and the local radio stations really seem to be gunning to get fresh new mixes. She knows she should be working on something for rehearsals, that Maroon 5 doesn’t quite seem to fit anyone’s voices in the Bellas, but she’ll get to Bellas work later that night. Maybe.

She grimaces as the song reaches the bridge, she grabs a pad of paper and takes a note to drop the bass from _Makes Me Wonder._ The mash is good, but it’s long-winded near the end, and she takes more notes as it finally hits its awkward last notes.

Beca grabs the microphone again; “That was an original mashup from yours truly of Maroon 5’s _Sugar_ and _Makes Me Wonder._ You are still listening to me drone on and on, and good for you, you have great taste in music. Let’s keep things going tonight with a little time fiddling. Here’s Marvin Gaye’s _I Want You_ and Jay-Z’s _99 Problems.”_ She slides the music on and grins immediately at the beat. This one’s been her calling card for a few weeks now, the nearby club and bar owners have come through the station while this was playing, and excitedly took her name and number down on slips of paper, promising to keep her in mind should they need a guest DJ sometime. Sure, it was college bars, filled predominantly with bros who were equally satisfied with LMFAO’s _Shots_ , but if an established joint wanted to blast Beca’s music _any_ night, she wasn’t one to argue.

At another flicker of life and light from her phone, she drops her headphones and swipes her phone on once more.

 **ChloeB** (2:22AM) **: I like this M5 mix! Are you bringing this in for the Bs tomorrow?  
** **ChloeB** (2:23AM) **: I really think we need to touch base on FAmy tomorrow before rehearsal.  
** **ChloeB** (2:23AM) **: “FAMY” HAHAHAha! FatAmy.  
** **ChloeB** (2:23AM) **: I feel like we should just start calling her Amy, don’t you think?**

 **StupidFace** (2:23AM) **: I’m going to bed. Call me tomorrow during a rehearsal break, Chipmunk <3**

 **ChloeB** (2:24AM) **: Drop the bass near the end of this mashup, B. It’s good!  
** **ChloeB** (2:25AM) **: Let’s talk about FatAmy tomorrow morning. You’re still free to meet for 7:30, right?**

 **BMitch** (2:26AM): **Yes, Chlo. I’ll be awake anyway.**

 **ChloeB** (2:27AM): **:( Don’t say I didn’t tell you not to.**

 **BMitch** (2:28AM): **I wasn’t going to.**

 **ChloeB** (2:29AM): **Are you going to be less crabby tomorrow? I’m really concerned about Fat Amy.**

 **BMitch** (2:30AM): **It already IS “tomorrow.”**

 **ChloeB** (2:31AM): **Okay. Goodnight, Beca.  
** **ChloeB** (2:33AM): **???BEc?**

 **BMitch** (2:33AM): **GOODNIGHT**

Beca pushes the phone back down onto the counter and imagines that if she’d grip it even harder, it might even disintegrate in her hands.

Her head is throbbing with exhaustion and a chill is beginning to spread into her legs. She’s not sure how much longer she can do these horrible all-nighters, and goodness knows she’s rarely getting the fruits of her efforts from any radio stations.

She grabs a sip of coffee and slips her headphones back on.

 

\---

 

Beca had a friend growing up. Ashley Hiller.  
Ashley could do blow a bubble with chewing gum, pat her head, and skip rope at the same time.  
It amazed Beca to no end, that someone could do three things at once.

She’d told Ashley such and the blonde child smacked her gum with a pompous smile and said, “I know, I’m _fantastic._ ” Ever since then, Beca had always admired people who could multi-task is such a way.

It began with the trivial abilities. Desmond Decker could count the 7 times table while playing cards while jumping on one foot. Peter McMillan could pat his head and rub his tummy and recite the ‘Peter Pecker’ tongue-twister three times fast.

As she’d gotten older, it grew more and more impressive.

Jessica Yorkshire came out at the age of 14 years old as trans, started wearing a skirt to school, and never gave anyone else a negative word, even when others were rude to her.

Lillian Caldwell’s father died when she turned sixteen, and not only did she play the most beautiful piece on violin at his funeral, she also did it without crying a single tear.

Later that summer, Beca’s father not only left his family, he also did it without leaving Beca a letter of explanation, and he also snagged a new girlfriend who was a total bitch.

So. You know. Same things.

The Bellas have their own unique abilities Beca had grown to discover.

Stacie can tie a cherry stem into a knot while making out with you upside down.

Fat Amy can, as she’s said, “Sing, dance, and be drop dead gorgeous.”

Lily has claimed she can fly, and that sounded impressive enough to not demand two other skills.

Jesse can clap his hands, hop on one foot, and catch popcorn in the air with his mouth.

Benji…well. Benji does magic.

Chloe Beale has an innate ability to worry, care for, and annoy you, all at once. It’s endearing and admirable but on the wrong day, can drive you batshit insane.

The next morning, after she’s had a one hour nap and chugged the Red Bull she promised the redhead she’d drink, Beca’s in no mood for any of what Chloe Beale is ready to serve her at 8AM, a Sesame Street smile on her lips and half empty Vitamin Water in her hand.

“Morning, Becs,” she says, tying her hair up.

“Morn,” Beca states grumpily.

The sun dawning in from the gym windows is blinding at such an early hour, and she hasn’t had the morning wake-up yoga session the redhead has. Her phone has again lit up with messages throughout the night from Jesse who was still having trouble sleeping, and Chloe had started messaging her the minute she’d gotten up, 7AM onwards.

Chloe reaches forward to grab at Beca’s sunglasses, to which Beca can only grab back at them, mumbling, “No no. Those are my friends.”

“Oh, I see,” Chloe rolls her eyes and releases her grip on the glasses. She takes a gulp from her water and walks over to the CD player, turning her warm-up music off. “You’re a little late,” she tries to say as calmly as she can. She shouldn’t be surprised, but that’s exactly what’s riling her up.

“I’m sorry, Chlo,” Beca says, “It’s been a hard eight hours. I’m here now. What’s up.”

Chloe bites her lip and shakes her head as though it’s a silly thought. “I just can’t shake the idea that Fat-that _Amy_ is…” She pauses and wrings her hands.

Beca snaps open the tab on her second Red Bull and readjusts her sunglasses. “Is what, Chlo? Come on, a little faster, I’m growing old here.”

There’s a frustrated rumble in Chloe’s chest she swallows down. Beca’s always a little impatient and rude, but she’s usually a little better around Chloe. Apparently not today. She cringes as the thought of fighting with Beca. It’s going to be a long day, and she doesn’t need this so early.

“Can you…”

“Can I _what,_ Chloe? _”_

She sets her water down with a soft sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m trying to tell you something serious, Bec,” she says carefully, scratching at her head, “I think Fat Amy is disappointed she wasn’t asked to be co-captain.”

Beca’s still gulping her second Red Bull as she shakes her head quickly. “Mmn-mmn,” she mumbles, “So what now?”

Chloe mumbles something under her breath.

What _is_ that?

“Chlo,” Beca says, raising her hand as if to stop traffic, “What-what is that? What are you doing?”

“What?”

“That mumbling – the mumbling, what are you _saying,_ why are you doing that all of a sudden?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I – what are _you_ talking – what are you saying! Why are you mumbling all of a sudden? It’s so unlike you.”

They’re interrupted by a vibration coming from Beca’s pocket, which she ignores, but Chloe lifts her hands up at Beca’s waist.

“You need to get that?” she asks, all the spite in the world on her lips.

Beca squints. “Chloe.”

 “You’re just acting like you’re hungover,” Chloe grits, “And I was really hoping we could touch base on Fat Amy-“

“Mhn-mhn,” Beca interrupts with another sound, “No. No ‘touching base’. Come on. You know I hate that. Sounds like we’re in a boardroom.”

 “Beca.”

“We have risen and we shine, bitches!” Fat Amy is yelling as the gym doors open and the Bellas begin to spill in.

Chloe’s huffing again and Beca really wishes she would’ve skipped the midnight shift. Or rehearsal. Or just _actually_ spent the night with her boyfriend, like normal girls do.

And, as if he’d heard, as if the bluebirds were aligning to make her life fantastic this morning, a text vibrates her pocket on schedule. This time, Beca checks it.

 **StupidFace** (7:56AM) **: hey :]  
StupidFace ** (7:57AM) **: Come be in my bed.**

Chloe’s undoubtedly heard the vibration and clears her throat once more. Normally, of course, Beca knows she’s in the wrong and puts the phone away. Normally, of course, Chloe’s busy warming up or welcoming the Bellas. Normally, of course, what have you.

Today, she’s just tired.

“Chloe, can I just text my boyfriend back?” Beca snaps. “Can I just do that for a second?” She can see Chloe’s doing that thing where she buries her head in her hair, when her shoulders sulk backwards, but her eyes are hardening. There’s a few immature ‘Ooohs’ from the room as the Bellas disperse and drop their bags, begin stretching.

Fat Amy’s duffel and yoga mat slowly descends from her shoulder. “Hey gals…” she says carefully.

“Stretch, Amy,” Chloe bites forcefully, sending the Australian a strong glance that looks more like a dare. She walks over to Beca with a stronger step than usual, her hands still splayed strongly on her hips. In the corner of her eye, she can see Fat Amy still cautiously approaching the pair.

 **BMitch** (7:58AM) **: God, I definitely should’ve just come home last night.**

“Beca,” Chloe’s saying over her shoulder quietly, like an enraged mother who’s just caught her child drawing on the walls in red crayon, “Can I talk to you outside?”

Beca snaps her phone shut and lowers her sunglasses, breathing slowly. Of course she wants to speak outside. Of course she wants to make this better, this tension. She’s not even entirely sure why it’s here to begin with. But she’s tired, and still shaking from the exhaustion, and honestly, speaking with AngryChloe is the last thing she wants to do. But the redhead is grabbing her forearm so forcefully she’s realizing it wasn’t an invitation.

“Hey Beca,” Fat Amy says warily, eyeing Chloe, “Every…thing okay?”

“We’re fine,” the co-captains say in unison, but Chloe’s eyeing her still with a glare.

“Cool tune last night, boss,” Stacie offers to Beca, stretching her forearm lazily. “Do you know who’s gonna solo yet?”

Beca’s phone vibrates once more.

Jessica raises her hand and says, “I don’t want to step on anybody’s toes, but _Maroon 5_ has been on my workout set-list for like ten years and I’d really like to solo.” There are murmurs of agreement in the room as the other girls voice their support for Jessica as Amy raises her own finger.

“I just want to say that I know someone else who might also be interested in doing that solo,” Fat Amy says. Beca hears Chloe’s impatient slam of her hands onto her thighs.

“Great,” Chloe says, her eyes wide and unforgiving, “Of course you do, Amy.”

Beca fails to grab at Chloe’s hand. “Chloe, don’t.”

Amy’s hand falls and she glances about. “What do you mean?”

Another vibration from Beca’s phone and she puts it down, then shifts her attention to Chloe, who seems to be so frustrated she’s practically _vibrating_ on point. She places a hand on her shoulder and makes an easing sound. “Chlo-”

Chloe shifts her entire body from Beca, raising a hand between them. She can barely look at her, and it’s killing Beca to see her like this. “I don’t want to hear it,” she says to her, “Especially if the song’s not even for us.”

Beca’s shoulders drop this time. Chloe’s been lacing this guilt trip on heavy and while it’s been growing more and more aggravating, it’s also been working. “No,” Beca admits softly, “It’s not for the Bellas.”

Chloe’s shaking her head at her as the other Bellas start to back away, finding some real interest in their water bottles and the cracks in the floor. “I knew it,” Chloe’s glaring at her now, and Beca can feel something small in her grow even smaller and smaller.

“Chloe,” Beca tries softly, but she’s interrupted once more by a vibration in her pocket.

Chloe raises a shaking hand to her forehead as she glances down to see the flashing ‘StupidFace’ on the front cover. “Oh my _god_ ,” she whispers under her breath, and grabs her water bottle before making for the exit.

Beca snaps her phone shut and raises her hands to ease the Bellas, silently moving out of the way for Chloe to stampede out the door.

“Hey guys, just stretch, we’ll be back, alright?” she asks. They seem to agree, save for Fat Amy, who moves towards her yet again. Beca raises a specific finger to her. “Please,” she says simply, and she backs back down.

 

\---

 

This one time last year, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, Aubrey finally had the good sense to give everyone a ten minute break instead of five. She’d exchanged unsurprisingly terse words with Beca, and the DJ had decided to step outside to cool her temper.

The gymnasium had an exit out the back that led to the emergency exit stairs outside, a balcony of sorts facing the football field. Beca had run out in her sports gear, and it was the dead of winter, the snow falling as soft flakes. But upon bursting through the heavy steel door, sudden rush of cold air was welcome, and she even sighed aloud in relief.

That was where Chloe found her.

She’d chased after Beca after observing the fight, and upon finding Beca quietly watching the players on the football field, she closed the door behind her.

Beca turned around briefly, acknowledged the red hair, and turned back to the field.

“I still have five minutes,” she said grumpily.

Chloe zipped her hoodie up and walked towards the edge of the balcony, placing her hands on the cool metal handrails. She took a deep breath in from her nose and closed her eyes.

Beca turned her gaze to the girl, watching her watch nothing at all.

The snow was still falling leisurely and small flakes were landing onto Chloe’s hair, each design more complex than the last. At this proximity, Beca could see every freckle on her face, the little lines around her eyes from her contented smile as she breathed in the cool winter air. She opened her eyes, then, and turned to Beca this time. Strong, crisp, and blue like the sky.

She put her hand on Beca’s and smiled the softest of smiles.

“We have all the time in the world.”

 

\---

 

Chloe’s bracing herself on the handrails, not watching the football field, but rather her own two feet. The morning fog is still drifting over the football field, and there are some morning joggers pacing themselves around the campus. All is quiet. She’s almost calmed down herself, when she hears the door open and close.

 “Chloe,” she hears Beca say cautiously, “Will you calm down?”

And there’s the frustration building once more.

Chloe can only grit her teeth and shut her eyes to regain the same peace she’d just had before Beca arrived. “Don’t tell me to calm down,” she says.

There’s a silence between them as the wind picks up and blows some multi-colored leaves up onto the balcony. Beca zips her coat up, shielding herself only slightly from the crisp autumn winds. She briefly remembers the last time she was up here, almost a year ago. She walks over to the handrail, gripping them slowly, letting her hands adjust to the cold bar. She glances down at her watch. They’re going to start rehearsal late. That’ll only get Chloe in a more difficult mood. She lets a soft puff of air escape her lips. “This isn’t how I wanted this morning to go.”

Chloe scoffs. “You have a _plan_?” she asks, all the sarcasm in her voice untreated.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re distracted!”

“Oh please.” Beca’s had just about enough of this. Every turn of the corner, it seems like Chloe’s constantly checking in on her, making sure she’s still placing the Bellas at the top of her list of chores.

Chloe purses her lips and turns away from the DJ. “You are. You’re distracted.”

“By what?”

“By _what?”_ Chloe suddenly yells, and Beca has the good sense to suddenly back away. There’s a fire behind Chloe’s eyes, and this terrifying shaking in her shoulders. Beca’s flooded with want to press her hands against her, hold her. Stop her. Stop doing this. Stop doing this to us. “By everything, Beca!” Chloe wipes at her eyes, “By people walking around! By your stupid phone? By your job, by … by _Jesse_! Everything!”

Beca bites the inside of her cheek. She doesn't want to argue, but she doesn't want to feel this way, either. “That’s not fair.”

“The Bellas _always_ come in last! I – We all come in last! Every time! And how is _that_ fair, Beca, how do you think that makes us feel?”

“And what about you?” Beca suddenly bursts, stepping back into Chloe’s space. “You’re so perfect because you put the Bellas _first_ every time? Every single time, Chloe? You’re not distracted by anything?”

There’s a sudden hiccup in Chloe’s throat and her gaze falters. Her eyes grow soft suddenly and there’s a change in her breathing, a change in her shoulders, a change in the air. Like something brittle will break if Beca breathed the wrong way.

Chloe takes a long moment to swallow slowly. “What are you saying?”

Time passes as the wind kicks up again, sending goosebumps up and down Beca’s arm, and she grips at them, keeping her gaze set on Chloe’s vibrating blue eyes. Coffee and cobalt. Locked and loaded, as always. Beca feels another shiver up her spine. This one is different. This silence is deafening. Chloe’s looking at her like

“Beca, I think,” Chloe starts again suddenly, licking her lips. She clears her throat calmly, and Beca can’t help but feel like a child. She doesn’t even remember what they were fighting about. Why they were fighting at all. “Beca,” Chloe starts again, like she’s trying to jostle herself back into this. She’s hesitating and hesitating and flipping her hair behind her ears and trying to figure out where to put her hands. “Beca,” she tries one more time, “I think you need some time to remember why you’re here.”

Beca takes a moment to herself, just to hear her heartbeat in her ears. She can feel a lump developing in her throat, and tears already beginning to form. She isn’t sure why she’s feeling like this.

Why they – Beca and Chloe – stopped being friends, and started being _this_ to each other.

But she hates it.

“Chloe,” she says with a sighs, “Do you regret not asking Amy, instead?”

To this, Chloe raises her eyesight back to Beca, her eyes wide and immediately forgiving. “Beca,” she breathes, “How could you-” She stops herself and wrenches away from her, choosing instead to focus on the football field. She shakes her head so slowly, like she’s scolding herself, disappointed only in something secretly sour within herself. It permeates the air and Beca feels so silly to have even asked the question.

“I didn’t mean that,” Beca says quietly.

“I think, um,” Chloe says quickly, as if Beca hadn’t said anything at all, “You need to really think about what’s important.” She clears her throat and raises her eyesight to Beca.

Beca can only nod.

Chloe nods in response, clearing her throat a final time. “I’m going to go back to rehearsals,” she says softly. Then, as always, because Chloe Beale is kind, because Chloe Beale is a giver, because Chloe Beale is rational, Beca watches Chloe’s hand trail onto hers, a soft and warm landing on Beca’s still chilly hand.

Beca shuts her eyes.

It’s true, she does need to start thinking this over. All of this. She’s growing thinner and thinner as the days go by. Her work in rehearsals has dropped, her frustration’s seeped into her time with Jesse and worst of all, she’s clearly letting everyone down. She’s letting Chloe down.

Something has to give.

She hears the door open and close.

                                                                                                                                                                                  

 

\---  


 

  **Luke WORK has been deleted from your contacts.**

 

 

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Also this is a great song.  
> The chapter titles may be named after different lyrics.  
> We shall see.


End file.
